


Tweaker

by Slutty_Merlin



Series: Gas Station AU [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted robbery, Cashier!Connor, Connor gets the scare of a lifetime, Gas Station AU, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Niles and Connor are brothers, RK900 is Niles, Switching Shifts, slight gun violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 21:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slutty_Merlin/pseuds/Slutty_Merlin
Summary: Looking back, Connor thinks, nothing good can come from working someone else's shift.





	Tweaker

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this morphed into a whole AU. I'm not sorry.
> 
> I headcannon Connor to be around nineteen in this fic, so he's still just a baby. I guess that means I'm still just a baby too? I'm only eighteen.  
> ...Holy shit, I'm young.

Looking back, Connor thinks, nothing good can come from working someone else’s shift. Like the night Gavin completely lost his shit. Or the night a customer completely lost their shit, literally, in the bathroom, and Hank had to clean it up. Both of those nights happened to be when he had spent his night in jail, and Hank told him to enjoy a week off. Really, he had nothing to feel bad about.

But he  _ so _ did. Gavin lost his shit because of  _ Connor’s _ regular, and, his stomach is definitely stronger than Hank’s so he would’ve been a better fit to clean up fecal matter in the bathroom.

Either way.

It was kind of perfect that Gavin had come to him, begging him to take his shift after Niles bought some last minute concert tickets. Connor could receive his karma, this way.

“Heh. Careful what you wish for there, Connor.” North replies when he voices this.

“Oh, please. How bad can it get?” Connor scoffs back. North shrugs and drops her money in the safe, and turns to clock out.

“Better knock on wood there, buddy.”

“Whatever.” Connor snickers.

“Alright. I am, the fuck out of here. Don’t die.”

“No promises.”

North snickers, shakes her head and waves on her way out for the night.

It’s relatively easy for Connor. A slow night, despite the concert just a few blocks away. Most of the people who wanted to sneak in beer, and grab rolling papers for what was most assuredly not tobacco, would have come and gone before Connor’s shift started.

So he gets the sweeping and mopping done before eleven. He wipes down almost every surface before twelve. With nothing better to do, he sets his step ladder up in front of his register, sits down, and continuously scrolls through Twitter. When he gets bored of that, he doodles on some receipt paper. He doesn’t even look up, when the door chimes at around 1:30, merely calling out a cheery,

“Good evening!” as he continues drawing St. Bernards all over the paper.

Footsteps approach the counter. Connor moves the step ladder, puts the pen away, moves his paper of doodles onto his register,

“What can I…” his cheerful question dries up in his throat when he finally looks up.

There’s a gun, pointed at his face. The man in front of him is shaking, his face is covered in gross looking scabs, what little teeth he has left are cracked and falling out, his hair is a stringy mess, his cheekbones stand out in an almost sickly way, and his breath  _ reeks _ .

So, a drug addict. Good. Great. And he’s pointing a gun at Connor.

“Open the register and hand over all the money.” the man says. Connor doesn’t mean to hesitate, truly, but he’s frozen to the spot, hands raised in surrender. “Hurry up!”

“Ye-Yes, sorry I-I-,”

“And shut up!”

Hands shaking, Connor slowly opens the register. He doesn’t want to, every part of him wants to challenge this man, but every customer service job he’d worked told him to just hand over the money, and call the cops afterwards, especially in a store with no silent alarm. So he drags his feet, hoping that the security company watching the store at all times was calling the police for him already.

Not much goes into the bag. Maybe about a hundred dollars, but Connor wants to throw up. No cops yet.

“Now open the safe.”

“I-I can’t open the safe…” he lies. “Only the managers-,”

A warning shot rings out, the bullet whizzing past Connor’s head and lodging into the liquor cabinet behind him.

“Don’t lie to me! Open the safe!”

Connor almost doesn’t register his words. He knows he’s trembling all over, he knows there’s tears leaking from his eyes, he-

Lights in the distance. Oh, thank  _ God! _ Shakily, Connor kneels in front of the safe. He swallows, fumbles the pin on purpose.

“Hurry up!”

Connor just has to bide his time just right. He fumbles the pin, this time purely on accident. The choked off sob that escapes his throat is 100% Real™. He can hear the sirens in the distance now. Surely, the crackhead can too.

“I said, hurry up you little shit! I  _ will _ shoot you!”

“I’m trying!” Connor tells him. He inputs the wrong code again. The safe goes into lockdown.

This was probably a horrible idea, in hindsight.

“What did you do!?” The man demands.

“I’m s-sorry! I told you, I-I don’t know how to-!”

“Liar!” Connor looks up, and only has just enough time to duck away as the man pulls the trigger again.

He cries out when the bullet grazes his arm this time. He has to think of a way out of this, he-

“Drop your weapon!”

-is  _ so _ glad to hear another human’s voice right now.

The rest is a blur. The man, though probably coked out of his mind, has enough sense to know he’s outnumbered. Connor doesn’t need to go to the hospital, thankfully, but the graze on his shoulder, and one on his ear he’d barely noticed, do need to be patched up. As company policy dictates, Connor has to call Hank, who blessedly picks up after only a couple of rings. So, there’s no need to call the market manager, thank God. He really did  _ not _ need to deal with Fowler after a night like this.

Hank had sped over at the sound of Connor’s shaky voice, not even stopping to hear what happened. He got there as they were dressing Connor’s wound, immediately flipping shit in proper Hank Anderson fashion.

He wasn’t the only person to show up, either.

“Connor! Hey, asshole, let me through!” Gavin-

“That’s my brother over there, let me see him!” -and of course, Niles.

“Just let ‘em through.” one of the officers grumbles. “They just want to see the kid. Whatever, Clark, we already got his statement.”

Niles and Gavin are there, in front of him, within seconds.

“Christ, kid-,”

“Connor, what the hell!?”

Connor holds his hand up- would hold both of them up, but his other arm hurts to move- to stop Gavin and Niles’ overlapping voices.

“It’s just a graze.” God, he definitely sounds as tired as he feels.

“Connor, if I find out you tried to play hero, so help me-,”

“I didn’t.” Connor interrupts Niles before he can go on a full tirade. “I just kept fumbling the safe code, that’s all.”

Niles is quiet for a minute, his expression morphing this way and that in an odd fashion, before he reaches forward and pulls Connor into a hug, careful of his wounded arm.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Niles murmurs.

Connor sinks into the comforting familiarity of Niles’ embrace, and it all hits him at once. The fear, the stress, everything. He was  _ shot at _ , for God’s sake! That hug, just that one hug, is what breaks the dam.

He sobs into Niles’ shirt, aware that he looks and sounds kind of pathetic, but genuinely not giving a shit. Right now, he just wants his big brother to hold him, to tell him everything will be okay.

“You’re alright, Connor.” Niles soothes. “You’re okay.” as Niles cards a hand through his hair, Gavin pats his back, albeit a little awkwardly. To be honest, it works wonders. Connor’s able to pull himself together after a few minutes, Niles pulling away to press a kiss to the top of his head.

“You gonna be okay, kid?” Gavin asks.

“Yeah. I’m alright.” he’s not, really, still shaken from his experience. But being around people he knows, people he loves, that he’s familiar and comfortable with, that helps.

Hank comes over, claps a hand on his good shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Connor.” is all he says, but it means a lot, coming from Hank.

Later, as Hank has Niles pulled to the side, reassuring him that nothing like this will happen again, please don’t make him quit, Gavin leans against the ambulance, Connor still sitting on the edge.

“You totally fumbled the code on purpose, asshole.” he accuses. Connor freezes.

“You’re…you’re not gonna tell Niles, right?” he asks quietly.

“Hell no. I’m not an idiot. I guess I should be the responsible one and tell you that what you did was stupid, but I’m not going to.”

“You’re twenty one. You’re not responsible.” Connor jokes. Gavin huffs out a laugh at that.

“True.”

“So. I guess this means I’m still in first place for ‘worst night ever’?”

“Pfft. Kid, you take the cake. I’m pretty sure you have the worst luck in Detroit.”

“Possibly.” Connor agrees, laughing softly. “I’m just really glad it’s summertime. College, like, sucks. So.”

“Shit, I forget that you’re in school still.” Gavin runs a hand through his hair. “Wanna ride with me and Niles back home, rather than drive yourself?”

“I…that would be nice. Thanks, Gavin.”

“Anytime, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, sorry Connor. Nothing like this has happened to me before (*knocks on wood*) but when I took a break from writing this last night to have a cigarette, I looked over, and there was a car parked there with its lights off. Just. Sitting there.  
> I need to like, not bring Bad Juju onto myself.  
> Honestly, how long does it take for a store to get back in business after an attempted robbery? Google won't tell me.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! [ @Kaits_Corner](https://twitter.com/Kaits_Corner)  
> I also have a tumblr. [ @kaitscorner](https://kaitscorner.tumblr.com/)


End file.
